


A Day at Samwell

by softkent (SalazarTipton)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 20 Questions, Accidental Outing, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety, Bodyswap, M/M, Pimms - Freeform, day in the life--kinda, references to jack's past, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalazarTipton/pseuds/softkent
Summary: Kent tried to never think about who is soulmate might be. How would someone feel about waking up in Vegas? With a needy cat and not much else? Where would Kent end up? What if it happened the day of the finals or his birthday or something else equally important? So, he tried not to think about Switch Days. Definitely not fantasize about it. Never. It would hurt too much. He wished he'd never meet his soulmate (or that he hadn't already). Then he could skip the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, everyone got their day eventually.





	

Kent tried to not think about Switch Days. Not because he hasn't had his yet, no not that. More because they were a nuisance. How many game days has someone not been able to play because they were actually halfway across the country in their soulmate's body and the person in front of him was actually some chick he'd met once a couple years ago? Okay, that only happened once, but his point still stands. Switch Days just got in the way. 

 

Though the horror stories are rare, they still exist. Like, someone waking up in a prison cell because it turns out their soulmate that they knew in high school got caught up in illegal betting. He tried to think about all the ways a Switch Day could go wrong instead of all the ways they could be great. 

 

Scientist were constantly trying to learn more about these days. It was general knowledge that after you meet your soulmate, one day you'll wake up in their body, and them in yours. They haven't figured out how to determine the exact day it will happen. No one knows why it happens. Sure, most religions talk about it, but not everybody is religious. It kinda pissed Kent off that there were so many unknowns about the whole thing.

 

He tried to never think about who is soulmate might be. How would someone feel about waking up in Vegas? With a needy cat and not much else? Where would Kent end up? What if it happened the day of the finals or his birthday or something else equally important? 

 

So, he tried not to think about it. Definitely not fantasize about it. Never. It would hurt too much. He wished he'd never meet his soulmate (or that he hadn't already). Then he could skip the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, everyone got their day eventually. 

 

**_Wah! Wah! Wah!_ **

 

He groaned and untangled himself enough from his cocoon of blankets to grab whatever was making that awful submarine dive siren noise. A phone? He closed the alarm and buried his head back into the pillow.

 

Wait.

 

His eyes shot open. The room was dark so Kent couldn't make out where he was, but just from this blanket and the size of the bed, he knew he wasn't where he fell asleep. That's not his phone. He felt his face.  _ No! _

 

Kent was so fast trying to get out from the prison of the blankets that he ended up on the floor with a loud thud. He righted himself and made his way to what looked like the door through the still-dark room. He found the light switch and closed his eyes before flicking it. 

 

He stood there braced against the door with his eyes shut for what felt like an hour. He knew he couldn't avoid opening his eyes and seeing whose body he was in, but that didn't convince his eyes to move. 

 

"You okay there, man?" someone asked from behind him. 

 

Kent turned quick and opened his eyes to see a guy standing in the doorway to a bathroom. He'd seen that guy before. He knew exactly fucking where he'd seen him before: his first Cup Day. Kent looked down.

 

He knew these hands like his own. These arms had been around him how many times?  _ Fuck. _

 

"Did I wake you up? Sorry," Kent croaked out. He never thought about having to talk around the muscle memory of someone else's accent. Damn this day was gunna be a journey. 

 

"You okay?" The guy stepped through the door and over to him. "You seem kinda..."

 

"Not like myself?" Kent asked with a laugh. "Well, you'd be right." Kent leaned his head back against the door. 

 

"Wait, you mean this is your Switch Day?" 

 

"Bingo. What's your name again? I know it was some weird nickname."

 

"Shitty, he/him pronouns" he said holding out his hand to shake. "We've met?"

 

Kent shook it. "Yeah, but I don't know if Jack would want you to know. I have to talk to him first, ya get me?"

 

Shitty smiled and nodded. "No pressure. Let me know if you need anything or if there's anything you need me to do, alright? If you haven't talk to him by the time the rest of the Haus wakes up, I'll run interference."

 

"Damn, you're a good friend." Kent said with the shake of his head. He walked back over to the bed trying not to focus on Jack's feet padding across the wood. He picked up the phone. "Hey, you know his passcode?"

 

Shitty held out his hand and took the phone. "I don't know if I should be letting you go through this."

 

"Well, no offense, but I don't give out my number so I call my phone from my contact in that or bust."

 

Shitty raised an eyebrow at him as he unlocked his phone and swiped the screen a few times. There was a light in his eyes and a smile on his lips when he handed the phone back. Kent laughed when he looked down. 

 

**Calling Kenny . . .**

 

Shitty gave him a wink before leaving the way he came. Kent sat down on the bed with the phone to his ear. He pulled his legs up to his chin.

 

" _ Allo _ ?" He sounded like he just woke up. Maybe that's good. Maybe that means he hasn't been spending the past who-knows-how-long panicking.

 

"Please don't panic," Kent whispered. He heard the sharp inhale. "Zimms?"

 

" _ Tabernac _ ," Jack said under his breath. "Uh, hi."

 

"Hi," Kent replied lamely. He cleared his throat. "So, this is a thing."

 

"Yeah. How long have you been up?" Jack asked, hesitant.

 

"Not long. Why do you have an alarm before the sun is even up?" 

 

Jack let out a huff of a laugh. "Morning run. Which I'm guessing I'm not going to be able to convince you to do for me, eh?"

 

Kent let out a sigh of relief. Jack's not angry or awkward about this. At least not yet. "It's pre-season for me, so if you wanna do my workout I guess I can do yours."

 

He could hear Jack walking through his apartment--knew the familiar sound of his feet against the tile in the kitchen and the hum of the refrigerator. It hit him deep in the gut that he wasn't there to see how Jack responded to his place for the first time. 

 

"Sounds good to me. I don't know if I want you going to me classes," Jack said. "I'd rather not have this get me dropped from something because you can't keep your mouth shut."

 

"What? I can behave myself. Not saying I want to go and take notes for you or whatever, but I can handle myself," Kent retorted. 

 

"Since when?"

 

"Chirps? This early? You're relentless," Kent said with a laugh.

 

"You have a cat?" Jack asked sounding a little worried.

 

"That's Kit. Be nice to her. I can explain what needs to be done for her or I can get one of my guys over to take care of her for the day. Whatever you're comfortable with, man."

 

All Kent could hear for the moment while Jack mulled over his offer was Kit's meowing. He had seen her last night, but he already missed her. He supposed it wasn't that weird. She  _ was _ on the other side of the country right now. 

 

"No, uh," Jack started. "I can take care of her."

 

"You already love her, don't you? No one can say no to that face." That earned him a laugh.

 

Kent moved to Jack's desk to get a pad of paper while they discussed what they needed each other to do during the day. From workouts to meals, Kit's needs, captain duties for their respective teams, etc. Kent couldn't stop smiling when Jack told him his phone passcode were their numbers from the Q. And Jack laughed when he learned Kent's was Jack's birthday.

 

"How do you want to handle other people?" Kent asked when he leaned back in the desk chair.

 

"Does anyone know yet?" Kent bite his lip.

 

"Shitty. I kinda fell out of your bed and woke him up. He unlocked your phone for me," Kent rubbed the back of his neck, "and he knows it's me. I didn't tell him, but when he handed the phone back, it was already calling my phone." Kent took a deep breath after rattling all that off. 

 

"That's fine. Shitty's my best friend. I came out to him our sophomore year. He can be trusted," Jack explained. "I don't mind if people know I'm on my Switch Day, but you may want to be quiet about who you are."

 

"Yeah, I get that. At the gym you'll probably see Swoops. He's my A. I'm out to him, so if you're comfortable with it, you can tell him who you are. He won't say anything. And I don't care if people know it's my Switch Day."

 

"So, same page," Jack summarized. Kent laughs.

 

"Yeah, who knew that could happen."

 

"I think this is the longest conversation we've ever had without fighting about something," Jack said a little quietly. 

 

"Helps that we've both grown up," Kent offers. "And knowing we're soulmates doesn't hurt, right?"

 

He hears Jack take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Are you okay? I know you hate Switch Days."

 

Kent licked his lips and played with a pen on Jack's desk. "God, you know why I hated Switch Days? Because I didn't want to face that you weren't my soulmate." Kent laughs at himself. "Fuck, Zimms. I miss you."

 

"You always say that," Jack said through a yawn. "I've always missed you too." 

 

“Do both of us a favor and go back to bed. It’s, like, stupid early there now.”

 

When they finally hung up, Kent felt like he was flying. Years of hating when this day would come and now it's actually facilitated him having the first civil conversation with Zimms since the Draft. Sure, they still had so much to apologize for, talk out, and everything, but they were  _ soulmates _ . This isn't some fantasy Kent had pretended he didn't have. This was real. 

 

He couldn't stop smiling while he rummaged through Jack's drawers for workout clothes. After his brushed his teeth in that shared bathroom, he knocked on the adjoining door. 

 

"Come in, dude," Shitty called out.

 

Kent poked his head through the door. Shitty was smoking a bowl by his window in nothing but his boxers. 

 

"I would so ask to join you if this were my body," Kent said, sounding a little wistful. Shitty smiled at him.

 

"I'll remember that for when you visit, that is if that phone call went alright." The smile on Kent's face must have given it away. "Thank fuck. I don't know if Jack knew it, but he's still so hung up on you. Glad you're soulmates and not freaking out about it."

 

"Me too. Hey, I have to go on his morning run right now, the masochistic fucker. He does know the sun still hiding doesn't change his gains, right? Anyway, Jack's fine about everybody knowing it's his day, just not who I am."

 

"Figured as much. Have fun with that run. When you get back, Bitty might even have breakfast for you."

 

"Bitty?"

 

"Go, they'll be plenty of time for introductions later."

  
  


Kent ran the route Jack had explained to him. He could see why he liked to run it so early--even if Kent was going at it an hour later than Jack usually did. The campus was still sleepy and foggy in some places. Easy to stay in the right head space. It helped that this was New England so the place wasn't too bad to look at. The pond, trees, river, and architecture. 

 

He felt a good ache in his muscles by the time he made it back to the Haus. He stretched out on the front porch before going inside to find some water. 

 

There was a little blond guy working away at the stove with earbuds in. He was swaying to the music and mouthing along with the words. 

 

"Is that Nicki?" Kent asked before opening the fridge in search of Jack's water bottle. He grabbed it and turned back to Jack's housemate. 

 

"Since when do you know who Nicki is?" He had his earbuds draped over his shoulder now. Kent had not been expecting to be chirped and not had not expected to hear that accent, either.

 

"Switch Day," Kent said with a wink. "You are...?"

 

"Oh," the kid with eyes wide. Kent thought there was a flash disappointment before a friendly smile was plastered on his face. "I'm Eric, but everybody just called his Bitty. And you are...?"

 

"Uh, Jack doesn't want anyone knowing that yet, but you kinda need something to call me, huh?" Kent took a swig of water as he thought. "I guess you could call me K? I'll probably respond to that."

 

"Well, alright, K. You want some breakfast?" Bitty turned back to the eggs

 

"Jack did say I have to have protein."

 

"He  _ would _ . Bless his heart, one day wouldn't kill him. Oh, there's coffee if you’d like."

 

"Thanks, man."

 

As he stirred in his sugar, there were some distant thuds before two guys threw their backpacks in the direction of the front door before they came into the kitchen. 

 

"Morning, Jack! Morning, Bitty!" One of them chimed. 

 

They crowded over the stove. "Whatcha making? Any for us?" 

 

"Your plates are waiting in the oven," Bitty said. He opened the door and pulled out two plates piled high with eggs, bacon, and toast. "Also, Ransom, Holster," he said motioning to each person, "this is K. K, Ransom and Holster."

 

"Gotta love those hockey nicknames, huh?" Kent said.

 

Ransom and Holster looked between each other, Bitty, and Kent comically with their mouths and eyes wide. They set their plates on the table and sat on either side of Kent.

 

"Switch Day?" Holster asked. Kent nodded his head and took a sip from his green mug.  

 

"So, where's Jack for the day? Montreal?" Ransom asked.

 

"You would assume his soulmate is Canadian," Holster said with the shake of his head before shoveling eggs into his mouth. 

 

"She didn't deny it," Ransom retorted before eating his own food. 

 

Kent bristled at  _ she _ . He took another sip of his coffee. Bitty set a fully loaded plate in front of him.

 

"Thanks."

 

He tried to focus on the food instead of the questions being asked around him instead of to him.

 

"Are you going to his classes today?" Bitty asked when he joined them with his own food.

 

"Nah, he didn't want me mouthing off and getting him dropped," Kent somewhat quoted. 

 

"What about practice?" Ransom asked. "Can you even skate?"

 

Kent burst out laughing before he could stop himself. He hid his mouth behind his hand as he tried to calm himself down. "Uh, yeah. I can skate. Jack actually wants me to come to practice."

 

"So, possibly a Canadian hockey player with the initial K," Holster said. "Anything else we should know?"

 

"Don't you two have class to get to?" Bitty mused. Kent mouthed 'thank you' at him.

 

"True," Holster said.

 

"But don't think this means we won't be questioning you later. Jack never tells us about himself. Now we have an in!" Ransom exclaimed with a wild motion to Kent. "We can't ignore this opportunity."

 

"I can't promise I'll answer everything you ask, but I won't lie. How's that sound?"

 

"Don't encourage them," Bitty groaned. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

 

Kent smirked. He dropped his head back towards his plate and looked at Bitty through his lashes. "Neither do they."

 

After he finished eating, he headed upstairs to take a shower. He tried to remain efficient in getting clean. He'd seen Jack naked countless times. Hell, he'd seen Jack in the shower countless times in the locker room. But back then they were both teen just filling out. And Jack had grown into himself now. As he was shampooing, he ignored the thought that Jack would be seeing /him/ like this too. He was really ignoring what that non-existent thought was doing to  _ Jack's _ dick right now too.

 

Once clean and mostly dry, Kent texted Jack asking about Kit. He knew Jack would do right by her, but he was still a concerned single dad, okay? He also asked if Swoops had made it over there okay to help him through the day. 

 

Knowing how long it took Jack to text back, Kent made himself comfortable on Jack's bed--still not dressed--and downloaded Twitter on his phone. He could delete it at the end of the day. He scrolled through his feed liking all the Aces' stuff.

 

**_@TheJeffSwoops_ ** _ : _ _  u know ur a real bro when ur helpin ur bro’s SM thru the day #SwitchDay _

 

Kent smiled at it before quoting the tweet.

 

**_@OfficialKVP_ ** _ : #bestbro  _

 

**_@OfficialKVP_ ** _ :  _ _ @TheJeffSwoops _ _ plz send me kit pics im dyin w/o my angel  _

 

It didn’t take long for Kent to get bored with Twitter. He sat up and looked around Jack’s room. What was he supposed to do with his day? He was pretty sure everybody was off in class for the time being. At home he’d take a nap or play with Kit, but he remembered how Jack used to get about naps right after eating. 

 

Clothes. That would be a place to start. He rummaged through the drawers Kent hadn’t looked in earlier. Each drawer was neat and organized, just as Kent had expected. T-shirts, long-sleeved shirts, socks, sweatpants, jeans, boxers. Kent pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and sweatpants. He closed the drawers and stepped back. 

 

Oh, Jack would probably prefer having a shirt too. He opened the wardrobe and went through all the dress shirts and jackets. Up top there were sweaters and sweatshirts. Kent glared at the back of the shelf. There was a dark shirt shoved in the back he couldn’t make out. He reached for it. 

 

“A jersey?” he muttered to himself. 

 

He pulled it out. Once it unfurled out of the ball it had been in, Kent sat down on the spot, right in front of the wardrobe on the floor. He spread the jersey out over his lap, smoothing out the creases a few more times than necessary. 

 

Kent traced the nine and zero stitched unto the back. He turned it around to see--yup, there it was. His own signature near the collar. Kent had sent this to Jack during his first season in the NHL. He never thought Jack would actually keep it, let alone bring it with him to school. 

 

The signature was faded and the material felt worn--like it had been through the wash a few more times than it would have liked. You don’t wash a signed jersey. Kent furrowed his brow. He picked up one of the sleeves. The hem was frayed. He felt around and noticed the fabric was a little lighter in some spots. The other sleeve the same.

 

He thought back to those nights on roadies back in the Q when Jack was trying to calm down or not be homesick or get over a loss, always worrying the fabric of his hoodies between his thumbs and forefingers. 

 

Kent gently lifted up the jersey and buried his face in it and breathed deep. It smelled like Jack--like those late night walks when they’d snuck out of their billets and leaned a little too close, like Kent’s pillow the day after Jack had stayed over, like when Jack had offered him his hoodie to wear after running out of a party after a girl had called him queer for not grinding with her.

 

He wasn’t sure when the tears started coming, but he didn’t care. Jack had held onto this tiny piece of him Kent was sure he wouldn’t want. He’d packed it up with him and brought it to his new life here. He’d worn it, and  _ worn it _ . It smelled like what Kent could only describe as home. It smelled like his  _ soulmate _ .

 

When he collected himself and stood, his heart was tight, but for the first time in too long it wasn’t a bad feeling. Kent breathed deep and wiped his cheeks. He threw on a random t-shirt after setting the jersey down on Jack’s pillow. Jack’s phone beeped. 

 

_ Unknown Number: [image attached] _

 

Kent opened it as he made his way back downstairs. It was a picture of  _ him _ on his couch with a tiny smile and Kit’s paws on his chest and her head titled. She looks a little confused. 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jack smile that wide.” Kent freezes on the stairs and looked up to see a short Asian woman sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with a sketchbook on her lap. “I’m Lardo, team manager. Shitty filled me in.” He finished going down and walks over to the couch before plopping down in it. 

 

“Well, good to meet you, I guess. I’m--”

 

“Kent Parson. We’re calling you K in front of everybody though, right?” She asked as she went back to her sketch. 

 

“Uh, yeah.Jack doesn’t want people knowing who I am.”  _ And I don’t know if I want people knowing who I am either,  _ Kent left unsaid. Lardo nodded her head, but didn’t look up.

 

Kent went back to texting Swoops, thanking him for the picture and asked how Jack was holding up. Then he texted his own phone. 

 

_ Kent: guess lardo ??? knows who i am. dont know how _

 

_ Jack: Kit is doing well.  _

 

_ Jack: She’s a good friend. Shitty told her. I’m fine with it. She won’t say anything. She would have figured it out anyway.  _

 

_ Jack: Whatever you do, don’t piss her off. You’ll regret it.  _

 

_ Kent: i c kit’s getting to know u. isnt she the cutest!??!!?!?! _

 

_ Kent: thanks for the tip…..what would piss her off? _

 

Kent and Lardo both looked up when the front door slammed open. Ransom and Shitty strutted into the living room. 

 

“Sup, Lards,” Ransom nodded to her as he sat down on the small, stained couch right beside Kent. 

 

Shitty nodded to Kent before walking over to the TV. He ruffled Lardo’s hair before turning on the WiiU and grabbing controllers. 

 

“You up for some smash?” He asked, already putting a controller in Kent’s lap. 

 

“Fuck me, this is gunna be awful. I haven’t played in years,” Kent said with a smile and a shake of his head. 

 

“Awe, that’s great! Maybe Ransom won’t come in last for once,” Lardo chirped. She picked up the gamepad and queued up the game. 

 

“Hey! I beat Jack all the time!”

 

“That hardly counts. Does he even hold the controller the right way up?” Kent joked easily. It earned him some good laughs from Shitty and Lardo. Ransom gave him an elbow to the side. 

 

Kent slipped easily into their competitive camaraderie. Although he was a little rusty, he still managed to hold his own. Ransom stayed in last place every round with Kent right above him in third. Shitty and Lardo traded first place back and forth. Just before the fifth round, Jack’s phone started buzzing.

 

“Shit!” Kent hissed under his breath when he saw who was calling. 

 

Lardo and Shitty shot him concerned looks. 

 

“Good luck with that,” Ransom said with a pat on his shoulder. 

 

Kent took a breath and swiped at the screen. 

 

“ _ Salut, Maman _ ,” he answered. 

 

He looked up at the ceiling silently thanking his French Canadian teammates and Bad Bob for keeping his Quebecois from getting sloppy. They exchanged the usual pleasantries easy enough. Ransom looked like he was about to pass out from holding in his laughter each time Kent rolled out another sentence. 

 

The front door opened and shut again. Bitty poked his head around the corner about to ask a question before stopping himself. He stepped in the quiet room with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Lardo motioned to Kent and mouthed ‘Jack’s mom.’ Bitty covered his mouth with his hand and turned to watch Kent struggle.

 

“ _ Quoi de neuf?” _ Kent asked as he ran a hand through his hair--Jack’s hair. He noticed how much shorter it was than his own. 

 

Alicia sighed on the other end. “I know you don’t use Twitter, but  _ Papa _ saw something you might want to know about.” Kent swallowed and waited for her to continue. At least she’d switched to English. Thank fuck for bilingual families. “Kent’s on his Switch Day.”

 

He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed himself for tweeting about it. Of course he’d have to deal with people asking about it, bringing it up.

 

“Sweetie, I know you hate when we bring him up, but I just thought you’d want to know. How are you feeling?”

 

“I’m, uh, I’m fine,” Kent said after clearing his throat. Jack hated when his parents brought him up?

 

“You know you don’t need to lie to us, especially about this,” Alicia said softly in what Kent had deemed her Mom Talk voice years ago. He’d only be on the receiving end of it a few times. He felt hot under his collar. “It’s okay to be disappointed. You two meant a lot to each other, but--”

 

“Okay, Ma, you gotta stop ‘cause this is killing me,” Kent with a grin and a forced laugh. 

 

“Are you saying--No!” Alicia said too quickly. 

 

He held the phone away from his face for a second. Kent gave everyone in the room a knowing look. Then they all heard her yell for Bob. 

 

Kent remembered the first time he’d heard the story of the Zimmerman's’ Switch Day. He and Jack were waiting for lunch to be finished cooking. Alicia told them all about how she had woken up on a roadie to some hulking guy--who turned out to be Jack’s ‘Uncle Mario’ aka  _ the  _ Mario Lemieux--shaking her awake and yelling about something she couldn’t remember anymore. In the end of it all, Alicia sat on the sidelines for that night’s game while her manager tried to stop Bob from strutting down a catwalk for the first time. In the end of it all, Alicia gained an appreciation for hockey and Bob learned how much harder life is in heels. 

 

He brought the phone back to his ear and heard the fumbling. “Kent?” Bob asked a little breathless. 

 

“Hey, Bad Dad. What’s up?” Shitty coughed back a laugh. 

 

Lardo got up and ushered the boys out of the living room and into the kitchen.  _ Oops _ , Kent thought,  _ I probably should have just gone upstairs. _

 

“We are so happy for you boys,” Bob said thickly. It sounded like he was crying. 

 

“Have you talked to Jack yet?” Alicia asked. 

 

“Yeah, we talked this morning. I don’t know if he wanted you guys to know so early. We didn’t talk about  _ that _ , but you should probably call him. He has my phone,” Kent explained. He tucked his feet up under himself. 

 

“Have you told your mom yet?” Bob asked. 

 

“Uh, no, I haven’t. I don’t really know if I should just yet.” 

 

In all honesty, Kent had completely spaced on talking to his mother about this. He’d always been so unwilling to talk about Switch Days with her that she never pressed the issue. They never talked about it. Now that he thought about it, he’s not sure if she ever told him about her Switch Day...if it’s happened yet. Damn, he hoped his father wasn’t her soulmate. She deserved so much better than that. 

 

After the call ended, Kent shot Jack a text warning him about what he was about to deal with. He got up and went to the kitchen. 

 

"So, Jack's parents not only know you, but guessed that you would be his soulmate?" Ransom asked.

 

Holster had apparently come in when Kent was still on the phone. He typed away on his laptop at the table. "So, possibly Canadian hockey player with the initial K who's close with the Zimmermann's and knows about Jack's shitty video game skills," he rattled off. "Am I missing anything else we've learned?"

 

"Are you seriously compiling a docia on Jack's soulmate?" Lardo asked from her perch on the countertop. 

 

"Of course!" Ransom and Holster said at the same time. 

 

"You missed the bit where he knows French and calls Mrs. Zimmermann 'Ma,'" Bitty offered. Holster nodded and typed it up.

 

"Do I have any say in this?" Kent asked with an amused smile. 

 

"Probably not," Shitty mused. 

 

Kent grabbed himself more coffee before joining the two defense men at the table. Ransom folded his hands under his chin and examined him. 

 

"So..."

 

"So..." Kent mimicked, putting his own hands under his chin. 

 

Shitty inserted himself between them, hands folded as well. "One round, twenty questions answered. Yes, no, or sort of are the only acceptable answers. Not all questions must be answered. There can be no lying. Ready? Set! Ask!" Shitty rattled off like an underground fighting referee. He slammed a hand down on the table, setting of questions. 

 

"Are you Canadian?"

 

"No."

 

"Are you American?"

 

"Yes."

 

Holster typed away quick as a bullet on his keyboard. Ransom nodded his head with sqinting eyes. 

 

"You met Jack through hockey?" Bitty asked. Ransom smiled at him.

 

"Yup."

 

"Excuse me! Yes, no, or sort of," Lardo quipped. Kent rolled his eyes.

 

"Oui," he said with a mini salute that earned him a wink from her.

 

"Three questions answered," Shitty interjects with them counted out on his fingers. "17 more and then we're off to practice."

 

"Were you surprised Jack is your soulmate?" Holster asked.

 

"Ooo, nice one."

 

"Uh," Kent started. "Next question."

 

Shitty raised an eyebrow at him and gave an approving look. Ransom and Holster looked over the computer screen. 

 

"How old are you?" Bitty asked. Shitty shook his head.

 

"Yes, no, or sort of."

 

"Oh, right. Are you the same age as Jack?"

 

"Sort of." A forth finger goes up on Shitty's hand.

 

Lardo got a wide smile and leaned forward. "You would rather find a person living in your attic than one thousand roaches."

 

Everyone's eyes got wide and turned to Kent. 

 

"Lards, going for the discourse!" Shitty said, giving her a fist bump. 

 

"Why do I feel like I shouldn't respond to that one?" Kent asked, unsure about the looks he was getting.

 

"Just answer. It'll be easier that way," Lardo said flatly.

 

"Easier for what?" Kent thought back to Jack warning him not to piss off Lardo. "I guess, yes? Sort of? Maybe?"

 

Lardo leaned back against the cabinets and nodded. "I'm counting that as an answer." Shitty held up his thumb. That's five. 

 

"Did you ever attending schooling beyond high school?" Holster asked. 

 

"No," which put him on the receiving end of some very judgemental looks from Holster, Ransom, and Bitty. Kent bent his head to drink some of his coffee. 

 

Ransom whispers something in Holsters ear. "No, we'll find out at practice. Don't waste the question," he whispered back a little too loud. 

 

The front door opens and closes again. A guy in a Sharks hoodie with a full mouth of braces comes into the kitchen. 

 

"Hey, Chowder," ever chimed at him. 

 

"What's going on?" he asked the room, looking between Kent and the interrogation-like placement of everyone else in the room. 

 

"It's Jack's Switch Day," Kent said. He turned around in his chair and extended his hand to the kid. "You can call me K."

 

"Chris Chow or Chowder," he said, shaking his hand. He grew a wide smile. "I'm goalie." 

 

"We are mid questioning. K has agreed to answer questions with yes, no, or sort of for a total of twenty questions answered by practice," Shitty explained as Chowder leaned against the counter. 

 

"We're five questions deep," Lardo said. "Feel free to ask away. We'll stop you if it's been covered."

 

Chowder looked at Kent with uncertainty. Kent winked at him. "Go for it, man. I won't get offended, probably, and if I do, I just won't answer."

 

"Do you like the Sharks?" Everyone laughed and he ducked his head.

 

"Yeah, they're good guys," Kent replied without much thought. Lardo raised an eyebrow at him. 

 

"That's an odd way to answer such a question," Ransom said evenly. He leaned forward on his elbows, closer to Kent. "Very interesting."

 

"I've made a note," Holster said. "Next question, anyone?"

 

"I kinda wanna know where Jack is spending the day, but I don't know how to phrase it without taking up a lot of questions," Bitty said to the room. 

 

Kent put on his best poker face, which he had to be honest, was a lot easier with Jack's face than his own. His muscle memory wasn't as expressive as his. Everyone huddled together in a circle which looked comical given the circumstances and the setting. It's not that big of a kitchen. 

 

"Okay," Holster said when they went back to their spots. "Is Jack out West today?" 

 

He didn't realize his eyes had gone wide until Ransom smirked at him. "Yes," Kent sighed. Why did he agree to this? "I'm surprised you guys aren't asking about Jack. I thought that's what you two were so curious about," Kent mused to Ransom and Holster.

 

"Good point," Ransom agreed. 

 

"Oh, we can ask about Jack?" Chowder asked. He looked to Shitty, who nodded. 

 

"Why do I feel like K's deflecting?" Bitty asked with a knowing smirk. "We figured out about being out West and suddenly we're reminded to ask about Jack?"

 

"Oh, you are sneaky," Holster accused him with a glare.

 

"Oh, if only you knew," Kent replied with a grin. 

 

"Have you ever seen any of our games?" Lardo asked. 

 

Kent hadn't been expecting that. He set his jaw and nodded slowly without looking up at her. Shitty put up his eighth finger. Holster typed away.

 

"Are you going to be showing Jack that?" Kent asked with a nod to the computer.

 

"Do you want us to?" Holster asked. 

 

"Wait, don't answer that! We need that question, dude."

 

"Okay, a non yes, no, or sort of question: why are you concerned about Jack seeing your answers?"

 

Kent scrubbed a hand down his face. "Probably because he doesn't know I've seen him play here among some other things."

 

"Well, then it sucks to be you 'cause Jack is our bro and we're doing this for him. It's your own fault you aren't honest with him."

 

"Maybe this will inspire you to be more open with him about things. Secrets won't ever get you anywhere good."

 

Kent leaned his elbows forward on the table with his jaw set. He locked eyes with the two guys that were sat in front of him. He knew what Jack's eyes must look like right then--how hard and cold they could get. He'd been on the receiving end of this look before and he knew what it felt like.

 

"Now, assuming that you really are close with Jack, you know how close he holds things to the chest. You probably know about his history, hell anyone who's been interested in hockey in the last five years knows about Jack's history--at least the ludicrous shit the media ran with." Kent paused to take a grounding breath. 

 

"You know your captain. You know him as the man he's become since all that went down. Just because you live with the guy and play with him doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about him. He's a private dude and with good-goddamn-reason. 

 

"Don't assume you know someone's relationship and how it should be because it now has the pretty label of  _ soulmates _ . That doesn't fix things, it just means you  _ should _ fix things." He sighed and dropped his head. 

 

"I'm not saying all this to be a dick or question you're friendships or whatever. I'm a pretty chill dude, it's just--" He leaned back in his chair and looked around the room at the startled faces staring at him. "Don't assume you know somethin' about somebody and their situation, alright?"

 

Holster closed his laptop and looked over to Ransom. 

 

"Sorry, if we overstepped."

 

"Yeah, we're just trying to look out for our main man."

 

"I get that," Kent whispered. "This is just pretty tight to the chest for both of us..."

 

"Well, I'm calling intermission for this," Shitty said motioning to the kitchen table and all the shit that had been said. 

 

"We're heading to Faber in ten," Lardo said as she jumped off the counter. 

 

Kent kept to himself during the walk to the rink and getting into Jack's gear in the locker room. He was called into the coach's office to ask if Jack was really okay with him playing and that he would only be permitted to join practice if he could prove he knew his way around the ice and wouldn't hinder them. Kent nodded with a smirk. 

 

The hiss of the skates on the ice relaxed him in a way nothing else ever could. Sure, this time around he felt a little off--to high up and wide, but Jack's muscle memory kept him steady. He got a feel for it quick as he circled the rink, warming up.

 

"Alright, K," Coach Hall called to him. "Show us what you've got and we'll see if you can be of use today."

 

"Whatever you say, Coach."

 

Shitty and Lardo watched from the sidelines with the rest of the team that was already ready to start. They still had a good fifteen minutes before practice was supposed to start.

 

Coach Murray passed him the puck a little gently. Kent shook his head. He met eyes with Chowder who was in the goal. Whoever thought a shootout would be the best first test clearly hadn't asked for Lardo's input. 

 

"You want me to go easy on ya, dude?" Kent called to Chowder. He shook his head and checked his spot before he got set. "Alright."

 

Kent went for him just like he'd gone for others hundreds of times. He knew Jack was a little slower than Kent was used to, but that didn't matter too much. Head fake, flick, and goal. Chowder looked a little dejected. Kent skated up to him and tapped his helmet.

 

"Don't worry about it. Niemi probably couldn't have stopped that either."

 

Chowder look at him confused for a moment before Kent saw something click into place. "You're--" 

 

Kent held his glove up to his mouth as he skated backward. "Shh." He winked before skating back to Coach Murray. 

 

They had him run a few drills alone before having him pass with Shitty until he was deemed usable. That little light in Chowder's eyes followed him with every pass he took. 

 

"Alright guys," Coach Hall said once all the guys were on the ice. "As some of you know, Jack's on his Switch Day. This is K. She's already proven that she can handle herself out here. I'm not sure how familiar you are with playing where checking is allowed," Kent choked back a laugh, "but we try to keep in as similar to gameplay as we can during practice. Don't go easy on her. We all know Jack's body can take it and he's fine with this. Captain for the day is Shitty. Treat him as such."

 

Kent managed to not roll his eyes the entire time the coach was talking which he called a personal victory. Just focus on the hockey, do as you're told. Don't let your ego get in the way. 

 

He let his mind go blank. He relaxed himself into the familiar drills. He didn't have to worry about being a captain right now. He just got to play. When was the last time Kent just played for the sake of playing?

 

It was apparent from early on that he was accustom to a higher level of play. It's not like he was skating circles around everybody, but between his handling and footwork, everyone was a little curious. 

 

"Hey, K?" a winger he didn't know the name of asked before the next run. "Where do you play?" 

 

Kent raised his eyebrows at him. "All over, dude. All over." It wasn't a lie. In season, he was traipsing all over the continent for his away games. He tried not to revelle in the mystery surrounding him. He definitely didn't perpetuate it...on purpose. Thankfully, each time someone tried to pry, they didn’t have much time to stand around a chat. 

 

Most of the time, Kent was focused on Jack’s teammates. He tried to not be a captain for once, but with each pass, every shot on goal, every missed save he kept seeing where they went wrong, how they could improve. These weren’t his guys, so he shouldn’t coach them, right? He did make some mental notes for Jack, though.

 

Team dinner in the cafe was not what Kent had been expecting. Of course none of this day was what Kent had expected because he had spent so much time blatantly  _ not expecting _ anything. The team took up a group of tables in the center of the room. 

 

“Oh, in case you didn’t catch it during practice,” Shitty said as he leaned into Kent, “that’s Dex and over there is Nursey. With that, I think you now know all of SMH.”

 

“Shitty, can we continue from earlier?” Ransom asked through a mouthful of french fries. 

 

“That depends on how K feels about it.” Kent shrugged.

 

“Bring it, dudes.”

 

Shitty stood on his chair. “Attention, brahs! No, not you  _ Chad  _ or whatever your name is, I mean hockey brahs, duh. Anyway, we are about to continue the great Switch Day Questioning 2k16 with the lovely K. For those of you who weren’t present for part one the rules are this: ask a question and K will either answer with yes, no, or sort of. Questions can be passed. Eight questions have already been answered. Only twelve questions will be answered, so ask carefully. Those present from part one, feel free to stop someone if their question has already been asked, answered or whatever. Ready? Set? Ask!” He flopped back down into his chair and held up eight fingers.

 

The meal passed with decent enough food, borderline too-many chirps, and a lot of questions: 

Do you play for the NWHL?  _ No.  _

Do you share Jack’s horrible taste in music?  _ Hell no! _

Were you starstruck when you first met him?  _ No. His dad on the other hand? Oh yeah. _

Are you a better hockey player than Jack?  _ Next question.  _

Do you do anything other than hockey?  _ Really? _

You single?  _ Ha! Yeah, but we’ll see after I wake up tomorrow. _

Does Jack’s ass feel as nice as it looks?  _ Sort of. It’s better. _

Are you gunna move to be closer to Jack?  _ No. I have a life, thanks. _

Do you have a job?  _ Duh. _

Do you have a Twitter?  _ Yes, and no, I’m not giving it to you. _

Is Jack really as bad as he says with pop culture?  _ Sort of. He learns quick but pretends he still doesn’t know. If you’re questioning it, he’d probably fucking with you. _

Are you going to come visit Jack after today?  _ Next question.  _

Do you work in hockey?  _ Pass. _

Is Jack doing okay wherever he is?  _ Yes, last I talked to him.  _

Do any of us know who you are?  _ Yes, definitely.  _

 

“Time!” Shitty yelled after the last question. “I know some of you have to go study and get projects done. Yes, Bitty, I’m looking at you. As Acting Captain, I call this team meal adjourned. All those not coming back to the Haus, say your goodbyes to K.” 

 

Kent was used to hockey player affection, but he was not expecting so many tight hugs that turned into a little celly just off the path on the quad. He got a lot of various shovel speeches and good to meet yous before everyone dispersed. 

 

Shitty, Bitty, Ransom, Holster, and he walked back to the Haus. They talked about practice and their classes while Kent posted the image Swoops had sent him of Kit and Jack to Kit’s Instagram. 

 

_ Dad? You feeling okay? You seem a bit off today #SwitchDay _

 

He bumped into Ransom, who had stopped in the middle of the porch steps.. 

 

“Wait, we still have two questions.”

 

Kent pushed him a little. Shitty closed the door behind them. 

 

“A college boy that can count? Color me impressed,” Kent chirped as he finished posting the picture to Instagram and linking it on his Twitter. 

 

As Bitty was about to step into the kitchen his phone buzzed and lit up in his hand. He looked down at the two little notifications. 

 

“You okay there, Bits?” Holster asked. 

 

Bitty looked up at them with his phone cradled in his hands. He pointedly looked from Jack’s phone and then met Kent’s eyes. 

 

“Oh my stars,” he muttered under his breath. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Ransom asked. He looked at Bitty’s screen. “Kent Parson?”

 

“Out West,” Holster whispers. 

 

“American hockey player with the initial K...close with the Zimmermann's.”

 

“Never did any schooling after high school.”

 

“Some of us definitely know who she is…”

 

“He,” Shitty corrected from behind of them. “I can’t say how disappointed I am in all of you for not asking for pronouns. It’s like you’ve never listened to anything to come out of my mouth.” 

 

All the guys look anywhere, but at Shitty. 

 

“Did Jack want us to know who you are?” Bitty asked voice exposing his shock. 

 

“No,” Kent sighed. He leaned back against the hallway wall and took out his phone. “I’m calling Jack.”

 

“Let’s move this to the living room,” Shitty suggested a little solemnly. 

 

Holster and Ransom took the stained couch, Bitty the chair. Shitty sat with Kent on the floor. He hit the call button, put it on speaker, and set it on the coffee table. Jack picked up on the second ring. 

 

“Kenny?” Jack asked a little out of breath. 

 

“Hey, Zimms. Where are you right now?”

 

“Just got back to your place from the gym with Jeff. Kit won’t stop following me.”

 

Kent laughed. “Pick her up and sit on the couch. She wants love and she’ll help.” 

 

They all listened to meowing get closer and Jack settle. “Why do I get a feeling you didn’t call to just chat?”

 

“You’re on speaker with your housemates. They kinda figured out who I am. Figured you’d want to deal with it before...whatever,” Kent said with a heavy voice. “Oh, and Chowder looked like he put it together on the ice, but he didn’t say anything to me.” 

 

There was silence on the other line. Holster looked from the phone to Kent and back to the phone. Bitty opened his mouth to say something, but Kent held up a hand to stop him. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against the coffee table.

 

“You gotta breathe out before you can breathe in,” Kent said in a soft, even tone. He felt everyone in the room stiffen besides Shitty. This must be the first time they’ve even indirectly experienced Jack’s anxiety. “Feel Kit? She’s breathing nice and steady. In and out, in and out, in and…”

 

“O-out,” Jack whispered back with a shaky voice. 

 

“She’s a little too cuddly, huh?” 

 

They all listened to Jack regain his breathing before he responded. “She must get it from her Dad,” he said lamely.

 

“Please, I am the perfect amount of cuddly, thank you very much,” Kent retorts without any bite. He sighed and wrung his hands together. “Scale of one to ten?”

 

“I’m...not below five?” Jack answered like a question. 

 

“Decent. You up for this?” Kent asked. He sat back upright and met the sad eyes of Ransom, Holster, and Bitty. Shitty bumped his shoulder against his. 

 

“Shitty’s there?”

 

“Yeah, buddy. I’m right here,” Shitty chimed in with a cheery tone.

 

“Yeah, uh, Kenny, do you think you could give us a minute?” Jack asked. His voice still shook a little. 

 

“Sure thing, man. I’ll just be in your room.” 

 

Kent unfolded himself and stood. He gave a nod to the room before climbing the stairs two at a time. He closed the door behind himself, leaned back against it, and closed his eyes. 

 

“In and out,” he whispered to himself. Kent wiped away the moisture that threatened to escape his eyes. “In and out.” He blew out a long, almost stable breath.

 

All Kent could think about was how he’d made this happen. Jack didn’t want people to know, yet he’d spent the day egging them on. Kent hadn’t even been back in Jack’s life for a day before he fucked things up again.  _ I fucking outed him _ . 

 

He wanted to throw something, hit something, do  _ something _ , but these weren’t his things--this wasn’t his body. For once, instead of lashing out, Kent let the guilt wash over him. 

 

On weak knees, he made it to the bed and sat down hard on the edge. With his head in his hands, he watched the tears fall freely onto the floor. Kent just sat and felt what he’d done--the tight chest and throat, shaking hands, burning eyes, runny nose. All of it. A sob broke out from his lips. Kent pressed his lips in a hard line and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes until he saw stars. 

 

_ In and out _ , he reminded himself. He breathed in through his nose nice and slow and let it out through his mouth. Once he managed to stop crying, he flopped back with a little bounce from the force of it with his arms sprawled out.  _ How do you always pull this shit, Kent? _

 

He turned his head to the side to see what his hand had landed on. A rumble of a laugh bubbled from his chest. Kent picked up the jersey and sat back up. 

 

In a swift series of movements he shucked Jack’s t-shirt and pulled the jersey over his head and pushed his arms through the sleeves. Jack’s scent surrounded him. He rubbed his thumbs at the hem of the sleeves. Kent closed his eyes and just breathed. 

 

_ Tap, tap!  _ “Kent?” He jolted up from the sound from the door. 

 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah?” he called back. 

 

The door creaked open and Shitty stepped inside. He held up Jack’s phone before he threw it to him. Kent caught it easily enough. When he looked back up, Shitty was already closing the door behind himself--leaving Kent and Jack to talk in private.

 

“Hey,” Kent said lamely.

 

“You sound like someone died,” Jack joked. Kent furrowed his brows. 

 

“You sound cheerier than I expected,” Kent retorted.

 

“What did you expect?” 

 

Kent sighed. “I don’t know, like, pissed off maybe? Upset?”

 

“I’m neither of those,” Jack said, his voice soft. “I knew my Switch Day might out me since before we met, Kenny. And the guys that know I all trust. Yeah, I would have liked to tell them myself, but I’m not surprised this happened.” 

 

“Oh, thanks. It’s not like I meant for this,” Kent scoffed. 

 

“I know you didn’t.” He heard Jack sigh on the other end of the line. “Are you okay?”

 

Kent curled up against the pillows and tugged on the end of a sleeve. “Why are you asking me that? This isn’t about how I’m doing. I outed you! How are you so--”

 

“Don’t do that,” Jack huffed out.

 

“Do what?” 

 

“Blame yourself. Push me to yell at you. This outed you too, remember? This--whatever we are right now--isn’t going to be like last time. I won’t let it and I really hope you won’t either.” Kent knew that tone in his voice. He used it each time he pleaded over Jack’s voicemail five years ago, four years ago, three years ago for him to talk to him. 

 

“I--I didn’t even think about this outing me,” Kent whispered in surprise. 

 

“The guys aren’t going to say anything and I only talked to Jeff and my parents today, if that helps…”

 

Kent laughed. “No, I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t care. I don’t care. I was just...You were my first concern.”

 

“You were mine too,” Jack said. “I got so worked up because I thought about being the reason you’re outed and I…”

 

“Yeah,” Kent finished for him. “Sounds like we both need to chill, huh?”

 

Jack finally laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

 

“So, tomorrow we should probably talk about  _ this _ ,” Kent sighed.

 

“ _ This _ ?” Jack quipped. Kent rolled his eyes.

 

“Yeah,  _ this _ , us, ex-boyfriends, soulmates, whatever,” Kent rambled off. 

 

“It’d be a lot easier to talk about in person if you’d want to. I understand if that’s too much or--”

 

“What? Hell no. Of course I want to see you. We’re just getting into pre-season so I’m sure I could get away for a weekend, if that’s what you wanted,” Kent trailed off a bit at the end, his hopeful tone turning unsure.

 

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be a problem? You have a team to think about.”

 

“I need some time with my soulmate. I think they can fucking deal.” They both laughed. Kent couldn’t stop the wide grin on his face even if he wanted to. 

 

A few hours later, still on the phone with Jack talking about everything and nothing, Kent had fallen asleep phone curled in his hand. He was still on top of the blankets wearing boxers, socks, and his Aces’ jersey. 

 

_ Ding-- _

 

Kent woke up when his dark room lit up bright with the text notification. He smiled when he maneuvered his way over Kit to reach his phone.

 

_ Jack: I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or happy that you found the jersey... _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments. Kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://softkent.tumblr.com). I liveblog my writing, reblog way too many things, and am always up for a prompt/request!
> 
> For those interested, I had [this](http://littlestpersimmon.tumblr.com/post/153011418073/jack-i-drew-from-this-fic-for-catmomparse) commissioned of Jack wearing Kent's jersey.


End file.
